Mulder Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
by Caseyrook
Summary: Mulder wakes up in a hotel room with no memory of how he got there or why. He has no I.D, no badge, no gun, and no wallet. So the outcome Isn't good when no one believes he is who he says he is. Please review!
1. Five Days Lost

Fox Mulder opened his eyes and without moving his head and moving only his eyes he knew he wasn't in his apartment. For a few seconds he thought of all the ceilings in his photographic memory and came to the conclusion he wasn't in a familiar place. He moved his head and rolled over and discovered that this conclusion was right, he was in a hotel room.

Mulder groaned and rubbed his left hand over his face and Sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He went to the small bathroom and splashed water on his face. In the mirror he studied himself for cuts, scrapes, bruises and any evidence that he took a beating. He found none.

Mulder sat on the hotel room bed, visiting the last memory he had.

"Mulder you're not planning anything are you?" He remembered Scully had questioned him as she sat at her desk behind his as they each worked on their background check paper work.

"No. Why would I?" He had replied. Mulder remembered Scully had given a suspicious look. "Oh look five o'clock." He remembered he said while looking at the clock on the wall.

That night he had gone home and did the chores that he had put off doing for sometime. Molly and his other fish were in dire need of a clean environment so Mulder cleaned his fish tank first. That job was the biggest pain in the ass of all his house work because he had to fill up a separate smaller tank of salt water and catch the fish and put them in the smaller tank, and then he had to take out all the decorations and the fake coral rocks and take those out. Next he had to drain the tank of its water and put in new water and fight to balance the PH level. Half way through the process, Mulder remembered, Scully had knocked on his door.

"Come in!" He called both his hands elbow deep in the tank.

Scully came in and had a look of disbelief on her face as she realised her partner was cleaning his fish tank.

"Well at least this way I can believe you when you told me you weren't planning anything." Scully said coming closer to Mulder to see his fish in their temporary home.

"Gee Scully just what do you think I was planning?" Mulder said joking. He WAS planning something and he knew that Scully knew it.

Scully cocked her head and gave Mulder a serious look. "Mulder..."

Mulder looked at her half innocently. "Okay I 'am' planning something."

"Care to share?" Scully said truly interested.

"I work on the X Files on my own time, with my own resources, my own money." Mulder said replacing the rocks back in the tank.

Scully played devils advocate again. "What if you get called in on the weekend? The Bureau will get suspicious if your consistently out of town."

Mulder silently mimicked Scully to which Scully rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, Scully I couldn't help it."

Scully smiled slightly. "Well I just came to make sure you weren't getting in over your head. I have to get back home for Queequeg."

Scully had left, and Mulder finished cleaning his fish tank and then cleaned his bathroom and fixed himself Mac and Cheese and then settled himself on his couch with the lights off and fell asleep to Steven Spielberg 's 'Close Encounters Of The Third Kind.'

That was Mulder's last memory.

As his mind reeled from the information he did know, he suddenly became scared of the information he didn't know.

He had woken up in a hotel room before with no memory of how he got there or why and that time he was charged for murder and spent a night in jail. Mulder hoped that this wasn't a repeat of the last time. It made him feel better when he found no bloody shirts. But the anxiety returned when he realised he couldn't find his cell phone, gun and badge. He picked up the phone and dialed Scully's cell phone number, he got no ringing and no answer.

He put the phone back and made his way outside. He looked around and found the office. As he walked there, he spotted a flag pole across the road that held the American flag and the state flag of Missouri which displayed a bear.

MISSOURI? Mulder thought to himself. Why am I in Missouri?

At the office A man Sat at a desk, clicking away on a computer.

"Hi can I use your phone? The one in my room was disconnected."

The man, short with black hair, looked at Mulder. "Sorry. No phones work today."

Mulder sighed, "Okay can you tell me what day it is?"

"Thursday."

Mulder looked down. Friday he cleaned his fish tank. Five days. He's lost five days.

"Can you tell me when I checked in?"

The man sighed, Mulder was getting on his nerves. "You didn't check in. You're brother checked you in. You were too drunk to drive so he paid for you to stay the night here."

Mulder sighed, frustrated. "I don't have a brother."

The man was really annoyed now. "I don't care so long as I get paid."

Mulder shook his head and left the office. He looked around hoping to jog his memory and nothing did.

He went back to his hotel room and looked around again. He had no wallet, no form of I.D and he didn't see any car keys so he had no way to leave town and no money for a cab. And the phones weren't working so no way to call Scully or anyone else.

Mulder sat on the bed again. He was hungry and had no way to eat. 


	2. It's Always Cigarette Smoking Man

After an hour of sitting in silence, contemplating his situation, Mulder's hunger became unbearable. The grumbling and noise of Mulder's stomach gave Mulder a pang of guilt as he suddenly realized that there were starving kids in Africa who felt this way every day.

Finally, the hunger got to him and he grabbed his hotel key and took a walk down the street. He found a corner diner and went in. He was hoping to use the diner's phone and maybe offer his service for something to eat. He'd eat a gallon jar of jalapenos at the moment if he was sure it would shut up the growling of his stomach.

A sign told him to take a seat anywhere, and Mulder chose one at the counter.

In only a minute, a black haired waitress of Asian descent came to him from behind the counter. "My name is Sally. How may I help you sir?" She asked, overly cheery with an authentic smile.

Mulder shifted in his seat. "Actually I have a sort of problem. I've misplaced my wallet and the phones don't seem to be working so I was hoping that I could offer my service in exchange for a meal."

The waitress nodded and held up her hand and said, "I'll get my manager."

She left and in another minute an older women with dyed red hair came and stood before Mulder. "I've been told that you're offering your services for a meal?"

"Yes I am."  
"Don't worry about it. Order whatever you want on the house. I only ask that you payback the favor to someone else in need."

Mulder smiled gratefully. "Thank you, ma'am. I will."

The manager smiled back and took out a small notebook. "Now what can I get you?"

Mulder had studied the menu already, so he answered. "I'll have the two and two and two with orange juice, please."

The manager nodded. "Will that be all?" Mulder nodded back. "Alright."

The manager left and Mulder surveyed his surroundings. From the people around him, he gathered that he was in a town not far from a smaller city, which was made primarily of laborers and farmers. Three men, he counted, had on camouflage. That wasn't surprising for a town in the Midwest.

As Mulder sat at the counter, a Sheriff's deputy came in the diner as he did ever morning in the week. He shot a watchful over all the diners. Not because he thought they were doing something illegal but because as a person with a photographic memory, he never forgot a face and every now and then he'd catch persons with warrants out on them, around town.

Of course nothing like that had happened in a long time. With that in mind it came as a sort of shock when the deputy noticed a man sitting at the counter. The size and features of the man were unmistakable. The deputy watched him carefully as he stopped Sally as she passed him. "Sally, who's that man sitting there at the counter?"

Sally looked at the man quickly. "Oh just some guy who came in a few minutes ago. He doesn't have his wallet so Donna's letting him have a meal on the house."

Sally walked away and the deputy approached the man in question carefully and slowly. Mulder didn't even seem to care or be concerned when the deputy sat next to him.

The deputy acted natural while casually grasping his holstered gun in his right hand. "Excuse me." The deputy said as if trying to start a casual conversation.

Mulder turned to the deputy and gave him a very quick sizing up. "Uh hi." He said caught off guard.

The deputy stared at Mulder for a few seconds. "That's it?"

Mulder suddenly became very confused. "What?"

The deputy put his shoulder on the counter. Mulder watched this action without taking eyes off the deputy. Mulder became aware that deputy had his hand on his gun.

"After what happened yesterday all you can say is hi?" The deputy said with a very high level of spite in his tone.

Mulder turned around more on his stool, he caught himself grabbing for the spot where his ID would be if he had it. Mulder read the deputy's name tag. "I'm sorry deputy, O'Ryan, but I have no idea what you're talking about. My name is Mulder. I'm a Special Agent with the FBI and this is going to sound un…"

The deputy just stared at Mulder and eventually laughed, interrupting Mulder's explanation. "You robbed a house yesterday and then you give me a story that you're an FBI agent? That's a new one in my book."

Mulder's confusion upgraded to anxiety. Mulder knew from that moment on he was royally screwed. "Rob a house? I didn't rob a house. I woke up this morning and have no idea how I got here. Let alone where 'here' is." Mulders voice was tinkering on panic and Mulder fought to control that.

Sally came with Mulders food at the moment and Mulder glanced at the deputy. The deputy relaxed a bit. "Eat your food and then you're under arrest."

Suddenly Mulder's appetite vanished but he forced himself to eat. He had experience with jail food and if he didn't eat now he knew he'd regret it. Although, he thought, nothing could be worse than the soup he got at that Russian Prison Camp.

With Mulders last bite and last gulp from his orange juice, the deputy grabbed Mulder's wrist and tightened a handcuff around it. Mulder slid off the stool onto his feet and the deputy pushed on Mulders shoulder. Mulder got the message and turned around so the deputy could handcuff his hands behind his back.

With Mulder's hands behind his back, the deputy pulled his wallet out and took out a ten and handed it to Sally. They walked to the parking lot and to the deputy's patrol car but before O'Ryan opened the door for Mulder, "Do you have any sharp objects or needles in your pockets?" he asked facing Mulder in front of the car before frisking him. Mulder had nothing but the hotel key so there was nothing to find.

Thirty minutes later, Mulder was being processed. He was handcuffed to the chair he was sitting in as Deputy O'Ryan sat at a computer.

"Alright, what's your name?"

Mulder sighed. "Fox William Mulder."

The deputy shook his head. "Stop lying. We know that's not you're name."

Mulder rolled his eyes in frustration. "How?"

The deputy breathed deeply and then pulled out an evidence bag from his desk drawer. In it was Mulder's wallet. The deputy opened the wallet and pulled out a driver's license. He handed it to Mulder. To Mulders extreme dislike it had his picture from the Washington DC DMV, but had the wrong name, address and state. According to the card, Mulders name was Joseph Franklin McKinney from High Ridge MO.

Mulder frowned. He stayed silent a minute as he went through every possible scenario in his head. He couldn't think of any way to get the deputy to believe him, he had no proof. He might as well be crazy. And frankly Mulder didn't blame him; the evidence against "Joseph" was strong enough to cause concern for any law officer. In this situation, Scully probably wouldn't believe anyone like Mulder either.

After finger printing and mug shots and changing of clothes, Mulder was put in a cell that was solid concrete. It didn't have bars. Only walls and a door with a glass window and two slots. One for food the other for hands to be handcuffed. He walked in and sat on the bed and then kicked the adjacent wall in anger.

This was worse than the campaigns of misinformation and the quests to close the X Files combined. The way things looked now, Mulder could be locked away and no one would no where. Not Scully, nor Skinner, not even the Lone Gunmen, not even his own mom.

Mulder lay down on the bed with a thin mattress. Cigarette Smoking Man, Mulder thought. Cigarette Smoking Man is behind this.

The Cigarette Smoking Man lit his last cigarette of his pack of Morley's and watched as Special Agent Dana Scully of The Federal Bureau of Investigation went to her mailbox. When she went into her apartment, CSM pulled out a laptop and opened it, the screen came on to a view of Scully's living room. CSM smiled as Scully finished the letter from Mulder and threw it in the air clearly distraught and furious.

"Leaving Mulder?! ALL THIS TIME, AFTER ALL THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN US AND YOU LEAVE?" Scully was screaming and clenching her fists. She sat down and composed herself, and reread the letter. This time she read it carefully studying every word, every phrasing, even reading it in Mulder's voice.

It said, in short, that Mulder's involvement in her life was poison. He'd cost her a sister, cancer, too many close calls too count and that none of it was worth the truth. "I keep telling myself that I'm looking for Samantha, but there came a point when I realized that if I wanted to keep those around me alive today, I have to sacrifice myself. I have to stop looking. I have to get a way. I have to let go. Goodbye, Scully and I'm sorry."

Scully sat in silence. Queequeg came to her and she picked him up and hugged him with tears in her eyes.

The next day she went to work. News of Mulder must have circled the bureau because she received looks from other agents who she could feel studying her body language. She kept herself composed and professional. She knew that the people of the bureau talked behind her back of her and "Spooky Mulder". She had learned to do as Mulder does and ignore and move on.

After only thirty minutes of arrival, she was called into Skinners office. There she found Skinner and the other assistant directors plus Kersh.

Skinner held up his hand. "Have a seat Agent Scully."

Scully followed his order and sat down. All eyes were on her and she remained composed and professional.

Skinner was the first to speak. He too had a strong and professional demeanor. "Agent Scully we called you in today to talk about the apparent resignation of your partner, Fox Mulder."

Scully made sure to make eye contact with all persons in the room. "Yes sir."

Skinner stayed focused on Scully. "You know?"

Scully nodded. "Yes sir. I received a letter in the mail from him yesterday."

"What did it say?" Asked Kersh who revealed no body language that was significant.

Scully glanced at the floor for a split second. She thought about lying, but decided not to. "It said, that he was poison to me and that it was best for everyone if he just stopped looking for his truth."

The persons in the room nodded. That answer seemed to be satisfactory for them.

Skinner looked at Kersh. "That'll be all, Agent Scully. You're dismissed."

Scully gave a forced courteous smile and left the room. She was on her way back to her desk when she was stopped by Skinner. "Did you lie about the letter from Mulder?" He asked seriously.

Scully shook her head no. "Unfortunately, no. That's really what he said."

Skinner stepped back and then put his hands on his hips. "Are you okay Scully?" He asked with a low voice.

"Yes I'm fine. I just hope he's okay."

Back in Missouri, a guard came to Mulders cell and unlocked it. A young pimply faced man came into the cell holding a suitcase and wearing a paisley tie. "I'm Mark Young, you're court appointed attorney." He said, obviously nervous.

Mulder sat up. "Mark Young? Is that a joke?"

The attorney chuckled nervously and pushed his glasses on his nose. "Um no."

Mulder looked the kid up and down. "How long have you been a defense attorney?"

Again the man chuckled. Mulder sensed his anxiety building. "This is my first case."

Mulders own anxiety grew, "Ever?"

Mark Young shook his head yes.

_Great, just great, _he thought and smacked his head into his palm.


	3. Scully's New Mission

Scully had been a by the book FBI agent all day long as she did her paperwork and background checks like she was supposed to. All thoughts of Mulder were stopped and she forced herself to concentrate only on her work. This was all necessary because she knew, just knew, that if she thought of Mulder, she would break down crying and she couldn't deal with that then.

So when she had put in her eight hours and completed all necessary forms as the Bureau mandated, she drove him. But a compulsion, strong and overwhelming, had her taking a turn in the wrong direction and soon she ended up at a door. It read '42' and Scully breathed in and unlocked it with the key that she kept on the same key ring that held the key to her own apartment.

Mulder's apartment looked exactly like it normally did. The fish tank light was on, the desk cluttered but organized, the computer and TV off, and the scattered pillow and blankets of Mulder's sofa were as usual strung all over the sofa, half on the floor.

Scully relaxed and went and fed the fish. This was not the scene she expected but it was better. After she put the fish food away she sat at Mulder's desk and went through the drawers and turned on the computer.

_It doesn't make sense. _She thought. _Why would Mulder leave his apartment like this? _

Scully browsed the file names and documents on the computer, she had just opened the most recent file when a burly man of fifty came by and knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Scully said after opening the door. She recognized the man as Mulder's landlord.

"Is Agent Mulder home?" The man asked having also recognized Scully.

Scully shook her head. "Um no actually. He left and I came here to see if I can figure out where he went. Do you need him for something?"

The landlord leaned a tad in order to peek past Scully into the apartment. "Yeah I need him. Rent was due yesterday."

Scully held her position. "Oh does Agent Mulder usually miss the rent?"

"No for a tenant who goes out of town more than a traveling salesman, he's usually one of my most dependable tenants, although I do have to do a lot of work and talk to the cops a lot about this particular apartment. Hazard of the FBI I guess."

Scully nodded. She'd admit a lot of drama does go on in Mulders apartment and it did seem to get beat out of shape a lot.

"If Agent Mulder missed the rent do you think you could give him an extra few days?"

The landlord looked down at the ground real quick then brought his gaze back to Scully. "Normally I would. But I need everyone's rent by 5 today so I can hire a plumbing service to replace the pipes in the basement. They leak and I can't have a tenant falling and killing themselves in the winter."

Scully nodded again and stepped aside to let the landlord in. She went and grabbed her purse and pulled out her checkbook. "Would you accept a check from me?"

The landlord came closer to Scully. "Are you family?"

Scully took her pen, "We're partners."

The landlord looked Scully up and down. "Can I see some ID?"

Scully pulled out her badge and ID and the landlord studied it carefully. "As long as the moneys good."

Later the landlord had left with Scully's check and Scully resumed her fact finding tour of the apartment. She had just about given up to come to the conclusion that Mulder didn't leave of his own volition when a folded up piece of printer paper fell out of a folder. It read:

Scully,

By now you have received my first letter and are looking into my

life for answers. I appreciate that. But it is with great sadness that

I admit while my reasons for leaving are my own, I ask you to please take care of my apartment. I was afraid that if I stayed in Washington any longer, your life would be in danger more than it already was. Please forgive me, Scully.

You're Selfish SOB Former Partner, Fox Mulder.

PS

You can have the fish tank, that's why I cleaned it in the first place.

Like the first letter she received in the mail, Scully read and reread the letter. As she did something did sit right with her about it. It sounded like Mulder on one hand, and on the hand it didn't sound like Mulder.

Scully stopped reading and thought about the facts for a moment. All she knew was that the letter from the mail came from Mulder's address and that he had typed it up on his personal computer. Something had scared Mulder into leaving Washington.

He had used the word 'poison' to describe how he was a threat in her life. No doubt someone had threatened her and Mulder left to protect her.

Scully suddenly felt alert and ready to go. All rage she had for Mulder dissipated and reappeared as rage for whoever threatened her and/or Mulder. She knew she only had one mission now and that was too find Mulder.

Mulder's arraignment hearing was a lot like a court scene from a comedy about lawyers. Mulder had to wait an hour for his time before the judge, and when it was finally Mulders turn to take the defendants table, his attorney Mark Young had to run at full speed to throw up in the bathroom. Six minutes seemed to drag on when the young man returned.

"Are you okay now, Mr. Young?" The judge asked looking down on the attorney.

"Yes, Your Honor."

The judge was an older white guy who looked as if he was a grandpa not a judge. Mulder thought about this when the judge spoke. "Okay. We're all hungry here so let's just get to the good part." The judge's voice boomed. "On the charges of breaking and entering, burglary, and giving false information to a police officer, how does your client plead?" The judge asked eyeing Mark Young specifically.

"We plead not guilty by reason of mental disease od defect." Mark Young said, his body language practically shouting he was nervous.

The judge gestured to the assistant district attorney, a very sexy lady with long legs and auburn hair. "You're honor this man lied to the officer who arrested him and will say anything to get out of trouble. He has this story that he will tell anyone who will listen about being an FBI Agent."

The judge seemed to find this funny. He glanced at Mulder who was rubbing his fingers under his handcuffs in order to ease the pain from them being on too tight.

"Mr. McKinney are you an FBI Agent?"

Mulder perked up at this question, maybe THIS man would believe him. "Yes I am, your Honor, and as such my name is not Joseph McKinney. I am not from High Ridge MO, wherever that is, and I didn't break into anyone's house. My name is Fox Mulder, I live in Washington and woke up in a hotel room yesterday and I don't remember how I got there."

The ADA scoffed. "Oh come on, your honor. You're humoring a criminal who shows no other signs of mental disease."

The judge leaned back in his chair and thought for a few moments. "It is on my authority that I remand Mr. McKinney to Craigwood Psychiatric Hospital where he shall be evaluated and six weeks from now we'll all meet again and discuss further action regarding this case." The judge banged his gravel and Mulder was led away. He thought it strange that there were no arguments at that ruling but then again, everyone was hungry.

As Always Please Review.


	4. Craigwood Hospital And The Lone Gunmen

When a knock came at their door, the Lone Gunmen expected a debt collector or Repo Man, and were relieved to see Scully instead.

After unlocking all nine locks on the door Frohike opened anxiously. "My, what brings Ms. Scully here tonight without her partner?"

Scully gave Frohike a quick glare as Langley and Byers joined them at the doorway, "Mulder's missing."

The Lone Gunmen's faces dropped and they went from happy to see Scully to concerned.

"Again?" Langley said. It wasn't the first time their friend had disappeared and it probably wouldn't be the last. Only this time the Gunmen sensed that this time was different.

Scully went to a computer bank and dropped two Ziploc bags from her purse next to the keyboard. In them were the letters that were supposedly from Mulder.

"These are letters for me supposedly written by Mulder. I need you to read them and tell me if you believe these are his words."

The Gunmen nodded and gathered around the computer bank and read the two letters over each other's shoulders as Scully sat at a computer chair waiting patiently.

After only five or six minutes they turned their attention back on Scully. Byers was the first to speak. "I'm afraid that these letters do share the same word choice, phrasing and structure that would be found to be written by Mulder."

"But that doesn't mean it was," Frohike added.

Craigwood, to Mulder's eyes, was a building that was in the perfect shape of a cube. All sides were perfectly symmetrical and all four floors seemed to have the exact same window and door set up.

_ The hospital must have been built like that to ease the Obsessive Compulsive's_, the Sheriff thought, as he pulled the County's Prisoner transport van into the parking lot that was neatly paved right in front of the hospitals doors.

"Here son," The sheriff said as he slid the vans door open and helped Mulder step out, with his hands shackled to a belt around his waist.

Mulder's feet were free and he had no problem keeping pace with the Sheriff.

Inside the front entrance was a waiting room of sorts with a long desk with computers and three women and a man. Mulder quickly noticed that that desk had a glass wall separating the admitting personnel from the people being admitted. The Sheriff had his hand on Mulder's shoulder and walked him to the desk.

"I'm here to admit this man, Joseph McKinney, for evaluation under Judge Tomsen's orders."

The lady who had the Sheriff's attention looked Mulder up and down. Mulder smiled, trying to look normal. The lady smiled back and then called to a big Native American man dressed in an orderly's attire. "Nate. We got an O and R here, who's going to ward 5."

The orderly came to Mulder and the Sheriff and the lady handed a paper to the Sheriff for him to sign.

"If you'll follow me please." Nate said, escorting both Mulder and the Sheriff down a hallway.

They were led into a room with another desk that sat behind a mountain of cubbies and shelves that held clothes and other personal items. It looked exactly like something that Mulder saw at various prisons that he had been to whether it was for an interview for an investigation or because he was a guest there.

The Sheriff took the keys out of his pocket and undid Mulder's handcuffs and then took the belt off too. The guy behind the desk asked Mulder for his sizes and soon Mulder was being escorted down another hallway as Nate carried a small crate filled with three pairs of pants, six T shirts, five pairs of boxer shorts and two pair of shoes, none had or needed laces and they were all white. Inside the box besides clothes were a tube of toothpaste, a new toothbrush still in the package, stick deodorant and a comb.

Nate was joined by another orderly and all three took a ride into an interview. Mulder decided to say something to just to get a feel for his situation. "Why can't we use the stairs?"

The other orderly answered politely, "No one uses the stairs unless there's a fire."

Mulder nodded and the elevator stopped. When the doors opened they revealed a large hallway with eight doors. Like the outside, the inside of the building was symmetrical too.

Mulder was led to the last door on the right. Before they could go in, Nate, pushed a button. Two people inside a room closed off by glass took a paper from Nate's hand and then flagged the three in.

Ward 5 was what Mulder expected to a certain point. There was a ping pong table and old tore up couches and wooden tables that you'd find in a school cafeteria. Lining the walls were shelves with board games and puzzles.

What Mulder honestly didn't expect was the women. This was a Co Ed ward, and Mulder didn't think it would be.

As soon as they came in, Mulder was noticed by a tall skinny man in his mid-fifties whose hair only had a tint of grey. He came over and introduced himself.

"My name is Dr. Stone. I assume you are Mr. McKinney?" He said taking Mulder's arm in a friendly way.

Mulder shook his head even though he knew he would be considered crazy for saying what he did next, "No actually there seems to be a lack communication here. See, my name is Fox Mulder and I'm an agent with Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Dr. Stone listened to Mulder and shook his head to show that he understood. "Okay we can talk about that later. Right now let's get you settled in."

As Dr. Stone walked Mulder into another door that read 'MENS DORMATORY'. Several patients sat a table watching. They had snickers on their faces and cards in their hands.

One of the women, Margie the Gypsy they called her, leaned forward to talk secretively. "Here that? The new fish says he's an FBI Agent."

One of the other patients, a man in his late thirties with red hair, looked at Margie. "I couldn't hear him say anything. How do you know he said that?"

Margie looked at him. "Because, Red, I can read lips."

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